Malfoys in Debt
by Words of Heresy
Summary: A series of linked one-shots. Harry survived the final battle along with his long time boyfriend Draco Malfoy. Now he must face a whole new variety of problems concerning his new family as he struggles to hold on to the happiness he's gained and overcome the trials that come with it.
1. Chapter 1

"Thank you."

Narcissa looked up at the boy-who-lived, he looked seconds away from collapsing atop of her. Wearily she made to stand and assist him, when her son beat her too it. Jumping up from where he was crouching beside his father, Draco grabbed Potter around the waist and helped him down into a sitting positing against the wall.

"Draco." Harry croaked and dropped his forehead to rest against his boyfriends.

"None other, boy wonder," he managed somewhat cheekily, a feat worthy of notice given the current setting. Harry smiled and shut his eyes, letting Draco's lips caress his for a brief moment. Peaking through one eye, Harry noticed his lover was back to treating his fathers broken leg while Narcissa tentatively reached for Harry's injured shoulder to do the same.

"We should get out of here," he said, lightly squirming under the touch of cold hands on burning skin. Pale fingers gently tugging at threads of fabric stuck deep in the caked grime of drying blood. Narcissa gave him a stern look that instantly petrified him.

"Oh yeah and where about would you say we go, oh savior of the wizarding world?" the young blonde scathed at him, leaning over he expectantly stretched out his hand toward the raven. Potter withdrew a willow wand from his jeans pocket and handed it over. Draco turned back to his father with out a word of thanks, but Harry smiled feeling the silent gratitude.

"My place of course. The anti-apparation shields have been torn down for the time being. We can do more for him there and you know it."

Draco hesitated; an attitude only revealed by an uncertain shifting of his hands, then nodded and moved his father, holding him firmly around the shoulders.

"I'll apparate father and you take mother," he said and vanished with a gun-shot crack. Taking his advice Harry somewhat awkwardly wrapped his arms around Narcissa's waist and apparated them to number 12 Grimmauld Place. There he could already see Draco pushing through the front door; struggling with his father, who limped along on one foot, body resting heavily on his son's somewhat shaky frame.

"Dobby." Harry yelled, not waiting a blink before the ever-cheerful elf popped up before his master.

"What can Dobby do for Harry Potter, sir?" he inquired.

"Assist Draco with Mr. Malfoy please. Place him in the guest room and get the necessary medical stuff we'll need to fix his leg."

"Certainly Harry Potter, sir," and the elf vanished with a snap of his fingers. Awkwardly Harry noted that his hands were still wrapped around Mrs. Malfoy's waist, and with a blush to rival Wesley hair he detached himself as fast as he could.

"_Ah_ we should go…inside," he added somewhat lamely. She just moved past him and quickly followed in the wake of her son and husband leaving Harry to trail at somewhat of a distance. Inside, the old Black mansion looked severely diminished, as if all the life within it retired with the final departure of the Order. Harry frowned at the dismal atmosphere and silently acknowledged at least one positive. The ear-splintering screeches of the Black family matriarch were nowhere to be heard. Pushing the heavy, wooden door closed, Harry took a moment to set all the necessary protective charms. The war was over but the danger of being pursued was only commencing, and he could feel it's weight consume him like a wet wool fleece draped over his weary frame. Stashing the Elder wand into his back pocket, Harry made his way up the creaking staircase.

Upstairs Narcissa was dabbing gently against her husband's forehead with a moist clothes, while Dobby stood over Lucius and preformed healer magic to kneed the bone together. The blonde was attempting to muffle his screams, by biting fiercely into a piece of wood Draco was forcing between his fathers lips. The Malfoy heir was leaning full weight on the elder blonde to keep the upper body from jerking forward. Suddenly as fast as the commotion began it ended with Dobby vanishing and the now fully healed leg resting dirty yet whole on the blood stained sheets. Removing the wood and offering his father a glass of water Dobby must have bought from the kitchen Draco looked up at his lover. A look of sincere gratitude passed between them.

"Done", he stated unnecessary. Harry nodded.

"You must stay here tonight. Your parents can stay in this guest room and we can take Sirius's room down the hall. I think it's best we retire early, as in now, so we might make an early start on the day and try sort out as much as possible tomorrow."

Draco rose from his seat beside his father and nodded.

"I agree. Mother there's a bathroom down the hall to your left. You and father might wish to use it before you retire. I'm sure Dobby can change the sheets while you wash up and if you need anything else me and Harry will just be two doors down to your left."

Narcissa smiled at her son, and then glanced over at the slouching form of Harry Potter, heavily reclining against the doorframe. She gave a nod and Harry acknowledged her in a similar fashion. An understanding like no other before it, passed between them.

"Yes Draco, thank you Mr. Potter for your hospitality. I will see you both in the morning," and with that clear dismissal she let her attention focus once more on her dozing husband, hand gently stroking the pale hair, never once looking up as her son left the room and followed Harry down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mother!" exclaimed Draco, noticing his mother's tears as soon as he walked into the kitchen.

"Oh Dragon, we are ruined! There is no hope! No hope!"

Draco watched his mother's face fall into her hands, only her shaking shoulders revealed her passionate grieving. Beside her, his father looking lost and forlorn stared blankly into his steaming cup of coffee. Unaware of all the tension Harry casually strolled through the kitchen. A towel draped over bare shoulders, collected droplets of water falling free from his soaking mess of raven hair. He walked purposefully to the fridge and bought out a small bottle of water, popping the lid and draining half the content in one go. Finally releasing a deep exhale he took a moment to study the scene in front of him; Draco's frown and Mrs. Malfoy's obvious distress quickly evaporated his good mood.

"What happened?" he started carefully.

Shooting his lover a worried look, Draco took a step forward towards the table and picked up a folded piece of paper from next to his father's coffee mug. Lucius didn't even stir. Unfolding the ministry stamped letter Draco scanned the content quickly, eyes widening as he reached the middle and positively bulging once he was near the bottom. Finally he let the letter drift free from his hand and sail easily across the room to Harry, who wandlessly summoned it when he thought Draco was finished. By the time he too read the letter, the entire Malfoy family was seated around the small kitchen table looking grim as death and purposefully ignoring the intruder in the room. Namely the smallish young man with a sizeable hero complex, who was at that exact moment trying not to regard each person in the room with pity. Finally Harry sighed and let his gaze settle on his frowning boyfriend.

"I'm sorry. But honestly I don't think this is all that big of a tragedy…"

"Not big of a tragedy! Potter my parents and I are destitute! Our house, our money and all our assets have been seized by the ministry, to be liquefied by the end of the month. What of us? What effort do you think will be made to house and support us Potter, death eaters and enemies of the public? We'll end up in a muggle poor house before the end of the month!" Draco screamed, not noticing or caring to notice his mother flinch at the mention of muggle poor houses.

"No you won't."

"Potter…" Draco started in that dangerously low, frustrated manner one might take up with a particularly slow or obstinate person.

"I mean it, you won't Malfoy! Before the final battle I was going to ask you to move in with me should we both survive the war. And now we have and the way I see it, should you have agreed you would be living with me either way by now. The only thing that's changed in those plans is that now your parents will move here with you, and since they'll likely end up becoming my in-laws before too long, I hardly consider this inappropriate or even unexpected."

"But..." Draco said, looking flabbergasted if somewhat more at ease, "Harry I didn't know. Are you sure? I mean I…of course would have agreed to move in with you had you asked, but my parents too. Can you really want to? I don't expect …"

During Draco's rant Harry swiftly crossed the room to embraced his lover mid speech, interrupting his nervous chatter with a furious kiss, filled with rampant passion and unprecedented love. They probably would have stayed there, Draco in his seat, hands pulling his lover down by tugging on both ends of the shoulder towel. Harry bent at the waist, hands gently holding the pale face, thumbs stroking the sharp cheekbones, had they not been interrupted by a strange chocking cough coming from the Malfoy patriarch.

"That is…" Lucius started, pausing to take reassurance from his wife's even gaze, "a very kind offer Mr. Potter and we most graciously accept your generosity."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Harry, "Kreacher!" he called and immediately an ancient house elf popped into presence.

"Yes Master Potter."

"Look it's your favorite pure blood family after the Blacks, they will be staying with us for the foreseeable future. Hopefully giving you incentive to try harder around here and perhaps not make further attempts on my life with poisoned cooking, mmm?"

Kreacher gave a sinister looking yet honestly pleased smile and vanishing with a pop. He appeared once more, moments later with a massive tray full of dishes loaded with all sorts of breakfast foods.


	3. Chapter 3

"...interview with the daily prophet at 8:40, breakfast with the war effort comity at 9:00. Meeting with Minister Shakelbolt and the Wizengamot at 12:00, interview with Magic Time's at 3:00", she looked down to see the savior of the wizarding world dozing off, head propped up on one elbow. Promptly rolling up her daily planner, she clobbered the boy upside the head.

"Oi!"

"Dinner with Headmistress McGonagall and staff at Hogwarts concerning the reconstruction of the school at 6:00," she continued as if uninterrupted.

"Fine what ever," he yawned and sent a cheeky wink at his smirking boyfriend.

"Not "what ever" Potter…"

"Wait… rewind."

Sighing Darla flipped a page over in her planner, "dinner with Headmistress McGonagall and staff at Hog…"

"Yeah that one, reschedule that would you please, for another location? I…ah…I can't go there…yet. Too soon you know?"

Smiling kindly Darla let one fragile hand rest gently on the boy's shoulder.

"I understand, where would you like to hold the dinner instead?"

"How about here?... though almost anywhere else would be better…"

"I'll get on to that."

"Thanks'. Was there anything else?"

Sighing the auburn haired beauty dropped all pretence of stony cordiality and let her softened gaze meet the inquisitive emerald eyes of her dear friend and current employer. If she could spare him the pain she would, but he hired her to be on top of things and reporting news, however unwelcome they may be was her duty.

"Yes Harry. A matter came to my attention while I was gathering data at the ministry. It appears the Wizengamot have passed a decree. All wizards and witches marked by the Dark Lord are to be administered the Dementor's kiss. It is a mandatory procedure. There are to be no trials…and no exceptions."

"What?" Angry the young man flew from his seat and glared furiously at the pretty girl, not but a year older then him, yet so much wiser in her deportment.

"I'm…"

"No! I'll talk to Kingsley, he can hardly refuse me this. Not after…"

"This has nothing to do with Shakelbolt Potter. Don't you think the Wizengamot thought of that? Your close standing with the minister has been noted and put in to question. Your appeal must be placed before the Wizengamot committee of elders and voted upon by the majority of the 37 seats."

Deflating like a punctured balloon, the boy looked dismal. Lost on a chest board so barren it held no hope of victory no matter the strategy.

"I…"

"Don't worry," she placated, moving towards the raven and with one hand on his shoulder guided him back to his seat, "you will convince them. Remember on that half-moon platform of judgment each member has a son, daughter, niece, nephew, mother, father or some other loved relation who's life has been spared by your victory over the Dark Lord."

Harry nodded but it was mechanic and held little conviction or acknowledgment. Finally after a long pause in which none of the occupants in the room made so much as a shuffling sound Harry looked up once more into Darla's temperate, blue eyes, the girl he'd come to love like a sister over so little a time.

"Would _you _vote in favor of sparing the Malfoys?"

"I…you know I would vote against the decree Potter what with the man I love being a target of its harsh nature, just like…"

"No, you would have hardly been in danger of loosing Snape. He was a spy and a war hero, someone who's name would have been on that Wizangamot before the year's through."

The Malfoy's exchanged surprised looks at this random discovery. Darla remained silent then tucking a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear she spoke.

"He was marked Potter. The decree carries no exceptions."

"Ok you know what?" Potter yelled, angered by her nonchalant demeanour. He attempted to once more rise from his seat but was securely pressed down by Darla's unexpectedly firm hands. "Forget you knew Snape, my love for Draco, and life debt to his mother. What then would be your vote? Would you spare the Malfoys' on the whim of one man and let the rest perish?"

Darla remained silent and studied the wall opposite her with nervous, shifty eyes.

"Answer me!" he yelled.

"Fine! No, Potter! I would considered that an unjust bias and vote against you. Are you happy now?"

"Yes," he sighed and deflated instantly, "at least now I know better where my chances lie."

Exhaling heavily, the ex-Beauxbaton graduate let her rigid posture droop significantly. With practiced grace she eased down to seat on the armrest, one hand gliding smoothly to wrap around the shaking man's shoulders. Draco glared from his place across the room.

"You will not loose your love to the blood thirsty vultures of the Ministry. You've survived, and you'll survive again."

"What of you? How will you survive?"

Pain jumped across her face faster then lightning, and she concealed her tears by quickly shutting her eyes and letting her head drop backwards, arching her slender neck. Finally composing herself enough to speak, she bought her face down and croaked dryly into the silent room.

"One day at a time Harry. One day at a time."

"Alone?"

"Not quite...alone," she emphasised, resting one pale hand against her naval.

"Oh…" after a long moment Harry's confusion cleared, eyes widening with comical accuracy, "Oh! How wonderful! Wonderful and so terribly sad…"

He reached over and placed one of his own hands over hers, eyes alight with new fire.

"Am I to be a godfather again? So soon?"

Smiling and turning her hand over so she could intertwine their fingers together, Darla nodded.

"Only if you want to."

"Want too? Of course, it's bloody brilliant news!"

The room once more lay engulfed by silence, until Darla breached gently with a single word.

"Rowan."

"Huh?"

"His name is Rowan."

"How did you…?"

"I spoke with the healers the week before the final battle and told Severus the night before. I think deep inside a part of him knew he would not return to us, and come morn he suggested the name Rowan."

"Rowan." Harry repeated, with reverence in his voice.

"Remus wants to come over for dinner."

Harry lowered his gaze, removing his hand from hers and intertwining his own together in a deathly grip.

"He wants to talk to you…about Teddy."

"Then I will host him two nights from tomorrow."

She nodded, "I'll make arrangements."

Lifting his gaze and studying her over his shoulder Harry made a quick observation on just how weary she seemed.

"Not feeling well, I mean…" gesturing vaguely to her entire person.

"Never better," she smiled somewhat coquettishly, and narrowed her eyes at him in understanding.

"I better go to Hogwarts and make plans for tomorrow night."

Harry nodded, and got up to escort her to the floo, suddenly overcome with protective instinct.

"Silly boy, I'm not a cripple! And I'm not even showing yet," she teased him with ease.

"No but…"

"I know." She smiled gently and quickly disappeared through the fireplace. Harry remained standing there for sometime, staring blankly at the worn brick patterns surrounding the magic portal. Darla lost everything, her family and her lover to a senseless war, while he gained everything from it. Now the very people for whom he died in order to save them from Voldemort's tyranny were challenging his well deserved '_happily ever after_'. Finally he turned and strolled briskly towards the living room. He had some preparing to do.


	4. Chapter 4

"I hardly see how it is any of his business to assist us further, are we not far enough in debt to him as it is?" Turning to his wife he said, "the only one he should feel slightly obligated in sparring is you my darling since it was your quick wit that saved him from the Dark Lord."

"But father Harry wasn't obligated to house you here, and still he did."

"Because of you dragon, because his love for you is quite sincere. Nonetheless never should it be said that any Malfoy was to be a burden on anyone else."

"Your mother is right Draco, we cannot in good faith to our family name, accept his grace. Especially not now that the ministry will certainly come for us in the near future, and take us to Azkaban. Why should we stay and sully his bright future with news of our residence here? How do you think it will look when the world hears that the boy-who-lived housed the most wanted and dangerous Malfoy family at his abode, and fought to keep them from punishment? Think son!"

Draco sighed and carefully evaluated his father's words while pretending to study a splintered nail on his right, index finger. It was for the most part true. What could Harry do to spare him and his family now? As much of a hero that he was, Harry in turn never had much sway in the ministry to begin with and why should that change? Especially now that his assistance was no longer required. If Darla was to be trusted the Wizengamot have already forbade the Minister's participation in the judgment and without Shakelbolt's sway, they hardly stood a snowballs chance in hell against an entire committee of grizzled old, witches and wizards, who dedicated their life to structuring the world around black and white fences.

"I think they will be thrilled, at least the prophet will have a field day," Harry drawled, walking into the living room and taking a seat beside his boyfriend on the armrest of the single-sitter couch. "I'm willing to bet Skeeter will suffer a stoke from sheer jubilation."

"As if our coming out wouldn't achieve the same outcome Potter," Draco drawled good-naturedly. Glancing up at his boyfriend he placed one hand on his knee and stroked the course, jeans fabric with the pad of his thumb. Smiling Harry dropped a kiss atop his lover's head.

"I have to go out."

Frowning Draco stopped his gentle ministrations.

"Why? Where are you going?"

"I have to go to the ministry, and talk to Kingsley, see what he thinks our options are. Then I'm going to go to Hogwarts…"

"But…" Draco looked panicked and grabbed his boyfriends hand, "you said you're not ready. How are you…"

"I know," Harry hushed, letting his calloused fingers gently caress the blondes bony knuckles; "but I must speak with Dumbledore's portrait, if anyone knows of a way out of this it will be him."

Nodding somewhat hesitantly Draco looked over at his father, who sat ever stony faced, watching the couple with some apprehension.

"What is it father?"

"I don't think we should remain a nuisance to you Mr. Potter, perhaps we should be on our way as well and let you recuperate in peace…"

"Nonsense!" Harry broke in, watching in amusement as the Malfoy patriarch raised one delicate eyebrow and pursed his pale lips. A sign of clear disbelief at being interrupted by an insolent brat less then half his age; or perhaps anyone for that matter. 'Must be a new experience for him,' Harry thought. "I implore you to stay here, further more I beg you not to leave this house until I return. It has been under Fidelius since before I was born, and now that Dumbledore's gone I inherited his title of the secret keeper. No one, not even the ministry can find it and I haven't had the chance to renew the spell on any of the order members. Until I've managed to figure out a way to stop the decree I hope you will not leave this building, for your own safety and my peace of mind."

"I promise Harry, I will keep my parents here on pain of death if I have to, until you return. I hardly think father that your pride is worth mine or my mothers life."

Lucius recoiled as if stung and minutely hung his head in shame. Perhaps the notion never struck him until it was shoved right in his face with so much impetuous boldness. Where had Draco learned such unbecoming traits? 'Must be the Potter boy', he thought sourly.

Harry pleased with the overall outcome rose quickly from his seat, planted a chaste kiss to his lover's lips, and made for the floo. Draco watched him go until he disappeared around the corner. A hiss of fire could be heard as the floo activated and then nothing. After sometime of not making eye contact, Draco broke the awkward silence.

"So Snape had a girlfriend, half his age and twice as hot? Who would have thought?"

* * *

A/N Please review if you have suggestions or just want me to post quicker ;)

WOH


	5. Chapter 5

The Ministry of Magic was a buzz with excitement. In fact it was so alive with gossip and activity that Harry's immediate arrival remained unnoticed, giving him the reprise to fade in to the crowed. Just when he was almost near the elevators, a booming noise announced the arrival of the Minister and a hush fell over the entrance hall. A woman unpleasantly reminiscent of Umbridge stood on a well-raised, wooden platform coughing into the microphone.

"Attention, attention! The Minister of Magic Kingsely Shacklebolt would like to make an announcement."

She stood aside and a tired yet impeccable looking Kingsely took her place, center stage.

"Yes it is with a grave heart that I announce today a new decree passed by the Wizengamot committee of elders earlier this week. It goes as follows "All wizards and witches, in possession of the Dark Mark and regardless of their affiliation with He-who-must-not-be named," ('and really,' thinks harry, 'their still doing that?') will be administered the Dementor's kiss by order of decree number 7364 titled the 'The Red Hand of Justice.'" Here Kingsely paused and coughed nervously into a pocket-handkerchief, "The decree is in action as of today, 12th of May 1998, and will be carried out until its purpose has come to completion. Thank you", and without any further ado he swiftly turned on the podium and marched towards the elevators. Harry barely catching his wits in time to catch him before the doors shut.

"Harry?"

"Kingsley, hi!"

"Come in boy, come in; we need to talk," he roughly pulled the smaller man by the shoulder into the small confines of the elevator and gratefully let the bustle leave with the shutting doors. The trip up was spent in contemplative silence, broken only when the door to the Minister's office was securely locked.

"What can I do?" asked the defeated youth, slouching over in his seat opposite the minster.

"I don't know my boy. I don't know," sighing Kingsely. He pulled free a bottle of Ogden's finest from underneath his desk and wandlessly summoned two iced tumblers. Pouring a hearty dose in both he handed one to his companion.

"I guess we can look in to this. I'll put my best people out, to go through the archives and all the old decrees that might counter-act this one. I can also get my Unspeakables to look through the forbidden files and see if they can come up with anything before the hearing next week, but I'm not going to lie to you son, it doesn't look good." Clicking his glass against Harry's untouched one; he drained it like a shot.

Harry finally lifted his eyes from his lap and studied the amber liquid for a minute or so before downing it in a similar fashion. The two men sighed at the same time.

"But I can't loose hope Kingsley. Its all I've got."

"I know," said the Minister sadly and gave the brave youth a sympathetic look. "These are the times we face Potter, panic is spreading across Wizarding Britain like fiendfyre. People are so inspired by the absolute defeat of Voldemort; they've grown bloated on their own self-importance. On some misplaced form of judicial wrath", he shrugged. "Being subjugated and forced to live in fear over prolonged periods of time does that to people. "

"I'm going to go to Hogwarts."

Kingsley lifted his once more half-full glass in affirmation.

"Now that's an idea. Going to talk to Dumbledore I assume."

"Yes. If anyone can give me a solution it's him."

The African nodded, "then I suggest you don't dally. The hearing of appeals is set for Monday next week and its Thursday already. You will need every minute of time from now until the court date to come up with a viable appeal."

"I hear ya," Harry nodded and lifted himself from his seat. "I'll let you know how it goes." Leaning over he reached out and shook his friends hand, giving a firm squeeze to signify no ill will between them. Harry knew Shacklebolt would swallow his own tongue, before proclaiming such a decree of his own free will. Departing the office he left the miserable pawn of a man to drown his sorrows.

Hogwarts was as grand as ever if not significantly pulled apart. Sections of the great school were missing or lay in rubble on the side of the hills. Most sculptures and statues lay in ruin and on closer inspection many portraits hung blank with the occupants still inclined to seek the shelter of other portraits deeper within the alcoves of the school.

"Out of the firing range," he thinks and almost chuckles to himself bitterly.

"Harry!"

Spinning around, the raven was immediately assaulted by the too familiar bushy head of hair and a pair of slim arms.

"Hermione." he finally managed to address her safely with out getting any of her hair in his mouth, "what are you doing here?"

She pulled back but kept a firm grip on his shoulders with both hands. Tears were running in torrents down her flushed, pale cheeks and she stared at him like he was bound to vanish any given moment.

"We didn't see you after the battle?" she blatantly ignored his question in favor of barking hers. "We were so worried! After you defeated Voldemort the fighting slowed but I was stuck restraining some Death Eater and Ron was comforting a distraught Mrs. Weasley and then I just a had a glimpse of you stumbling off and then you were gone." She finally tore one hand away from his shoulder to slap him hard against the chest. "Ten days! Ten days and nothing! Oh you horrible…"she wailed, "horrible boy."

As if all strength abandoned her, she fell heavily into his chest and wrapped both arms around him, sobbing into his neck and shaking like the gale winds were about her.

"I…" Harry was lost for words and simply stroked his friends back as he let the overwhelming sense of guilt and shame consume him. He was so focused on how to assist the Malfoys, he never once spared a thought for his two friends; assuming before he even went searching for his boyfriend, that they had each other for the aftermath, and he would only be that awkward third wheel. Obviously that was the wrong way to think about this. He gently extracted himself from his best friend when he felt her sobbing had subdued enough to not embarrass her.

"I'm sorry Hermione." He said honestly looking into her bloodshot chocolate eyes with outmost sincerity.

"I know, she gasped and wiped clumsily at her face with the back of one hand. "I know Harry, its ok. Oh look at me," she whined, "I must look a dreadful mess. I'm sorry Harry; I don't know what came over me. I'm just so relived to see you're ok, and you know," she paused as if unsure how to finish her sentence, "still around."

Harry knew what she was implying.

"Never," he said with conviction and taking her by the hand led them deeper into the school. After walking together for sometime Hermione finally felt herself composed enough to ask Harry why he decided to return to Hogwarts so soon after the war.

"I need to speak with Dumbledore and the Head Mistress."

"What about?"

"A decree has been passed that…"

Hermione nodded and interrupted smartly. "The Red Hand of Justice" decree."

Harry turned to her in surprise but she simply rolled her eyes.

"You're not the only one Darla talks too."

Blushing Harry nodded and sped up his pace. They were nearing the entrance to the Head Mistresses' office when Hermione decided to once more incite conversation.

"I hope Dumbledore's portrait can be of help to you Harry. I will also do some research in my spare time before my flight to Australia in ten days time." She smiled and paused outside the entrance, pulling him short by the cuff of one sleeve.

"I'll leave you here then. I want to head to the kitchen and talk to the house elves about temporary re-assignment while school undergoes construction in the summer."

Harry smiled and with but a brief hug they parted ways.


End file.
